Irony
by Amanda Kitswell
Summary: MAJOR Spoilers for Cockroaches/Lying Down With Dogs. You have been warned. Warrick is in his motel room thinking about how he ended up there when he gets a visitor. Yo!Bling and nothing more.


Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Note: In my opinion, this was my best story yet. I don't really want to say anything else, because I may ruin it for you. Enjoy!

* * *

"No!" He shot up, sweat drenched sheets covering his otherwise naked body. A tear started to stream its way down his cheek slowly, but he caught it as he dragged his hand over his face. It all felt like such a terrible dream. But just because the drugs in his system had made it seem like a dream didn't change the fact that it wasn't.

He looked over at the clock on his nightstand and noticed he had actually slept six hours before he had the nightmare this time. Withdrawal was hell. He knew because he had experienced it before. But that had only been mental, though. What he was going through now was actual physical anguish. As if the thought of his withdrawal was a cue, he felt a sudden twisting in his stomach, and immediately bolted for the bathroom.

Warrick hated being sick. Being sick meant that he was suffering. And at this point, that's all he was doing, sick or not. All he could think about were the mistakes he had made in the past that put his job on the line and the addiction he had fought with. But the hell he had put himself through after Holly's death was nothing compared to this. Not only had he jeopardized his entire career, but he was facing prison. Not because he was guilty, but because he had gotten himself mixed up in a world where the innocent get screwed if they don't play by the rules.

He felt like there was no chance that he would be cleared of Joanna's murder. He knew who was behind it, too. Everyone did, but the only one who would be able to verify it was so terrified that he wouldn't talk. And even if he was willing to help, the defense attorneys probably would have torn him to shreds in the competency hearings. But Warrick had been so desperate; he threw all logic and pride out the window and begged the bum to tell the truth. All he had gotten from it was two weeks suspension with no one to turn to.

And this is how he ended up: kneeling in front of the toilet of a rundown motel room puking his guts out. Blaming Tina could have been so easy. After all, she was the one who cheated and got pregnant with another man's baby. But she wasn't the only one at fault. She wasn't the one who took pill after pill, trying to numb the pain of another failed attempt at happiness. She wasn't the one who slept with an exotic dancer, all the while having hallucinations of her holding a knife or lying bloody and lifeless on the bed.

The memory of seeing Joanna's body hanging out of the backseat of his truck as Grissom held him back flashed across his mind, provoking yet another heave into the porcelain bowl. He could hear his cell phone blaring from the other room, but forced himself to ignore it as each lurch of his stomach left him with no option but to stay glued to the bathroom tile.

After what felt like hours, the only thing he had left in his stomach was air. Each heave that produced nothing was absolute torture, and the constant shrill of his cell phone only left him silently pleading for this hell to end.

As the convulsions slowly came to an end, he was now feeling the throbbing in his skull. Every nerve was being jack-hammered into a painful submission that left him weak, and he found himself unable to move from his perch in front of the toilet. The searing hot pain soon became too much, and Warrick slumped over the toilet as he lost consciousness.

* * *

The dull thudding was beginning to draw Warrick out of his involuntary rest, and he wasn't sure whether to be grateful or annoyed. His head lay on the cool tile, having slipped from its less than comfortable position on the toilet. As he began to lift it up, a sharp, heated pain sent a flash of bright light in front of his eyes, temporarily blinding him. He was unable to prevent his head from slamming back onto the surface of the bathroom floor. The fresh pain from the slamming contact with the tile caused him to cry out, an involuntary tear sliding down his temple and striking the floor.

Now ignoring the blinding pain in his head, he forced himself into a sitting position on the hard ground. The pounding on the door seemed to be getting faster, and he stood as quickly as possible to leave the bathroom. He was about to head straight for the door when he realized he was still nude. Groaning, he scanned the room for his underwear and jeans. His eyes fell on the tangled mess of clothing in the corner of the room and he immediately moved over to them.

As he bent down, the change in position sent a fresh wave of pain through his skull. He cursed as he grabbed at his boxers, the temporary blindness leaving him feeling for his jeans. Pulling on the separate garments, he made his way to the door. He brought his eye to the peephole, wanting to know who it was before he opened the door. A fresh round of knocks made him jump as he was looking through, leaving him with a pounding heart that only made the blood flowing through his head squeeze his brain that much tighter. He uttered a silent curse as he went back to seeing who was outside.

His heart jumped at the sight of the woman on the opposite side of the door. He watched as she lifted her fist to knock again, and made quick work of unlatching the chain lock. The noise must have been heard, because the knocks never came. He turned the knob and took a deep breath before he pulled the door open. "Hey," he said, his voice hoarse. The look on her face shifted continuously until it settled to show concern.

"Hey," she said softly. "You look like hell."

He felt the frown he was wearing deepen at her words. "I feel like hell. What's up, Cath?"

"I was just about to ask you the same question." She smiled wanly, and he knew how uncomfortable this was for her, because he was feeling it too. He felt the familiar stir in his stomach that he would get around her, but ignored it as she began to speak again. "I didn't want to believe what I was hearing around the lab, but Grissom told the team you were suspended for two weeks, and now I have to know." She frowned, disappointment evident in her features. "What's gotten into you? You've never lost control this bad before."

He turned away, the look of concern etched into her features suddenly becoming too much to handle. He was picking through his thoughts carefully, trying to find the best way to explain what was happening in his life.

As he thought about his pending divorce, he realized his steep decline hadn't been steep at all. He had been steadily losing control of his life since he married Tina after Nick had almost died. He realized how easily he was able to leave his life in the control of a coin flip, and that a result in his favor kept him from being the one underground. And he knew he wouldn't have been able to handle it like Nick. When they pulled Nick through the dirt as it exploded out of the hole in the ground, he realized how close his best friend had come to dying: and how it had come so close to being him. With his mind beginning to spiral out of control, he did the only thing he could think of to get it back.

However, it had only been a temporary fix, because just as things started to get back to normal, it all came crashing down again. All it took for him to throw his trust in Tina aside was merely seeing her with another man. Anger and the undeniable feeling of betrayal flared uncontrollably within him as he watched her through the surveillance video. He felt foolish when she explained the reasoning behind her being at the casino, and it was then that he realized his marriage was doomed to fail. Unable to accept it, he dragged out the marriage one more year, desperate to make it work. Then, not too long ago, he learned his attempts at fixing his marriage were all for naught, because Tina was pregnant with another man's baby.

That was the hardest slap in the face he had ever received, and he hadn't been able to cope. He had lost the only definite thing in his life, and with that loss went what was left of his happiness.

He realized he had become lost in his thoughts, because it took him a few minutes to hear Catherine's calls. "_Warrick!_" Her voice tore into his ears, and he thought his head was going to split open. He winced in pain, and when he turned to look at her, he saw the apologetic expression painted on her face. "Sorry. I thought I lost you for a minute."

"It's okay," he said shakily, his voice still unsteady and hoarse from the strain he had put on it the night before. He gave her a half-smile, which seemed to ease her a little, but not much.

Her features morphed into a look of curiosity as she began to speak. "So are you going to tell me what's going on, or are you just going to avoid the question?" He noticed her trying to smile, but it seemed to only twist her lips into a sneer, and she gave up quickly.

He tried to take another deep breath, but halfway through it his head started to spin and he just let it out. "I'm not avoiding the question. It's just hard to answer." He watched as she raised an eyebrow at him, and he sighed loudly, realizing that his only choice was just to give it to her straight. "You know that Tina and I are getting a divorce, right?" He waited until she nodded, then continued. "Well, I never told you why. I haven't told anybody why. I should've told you, though." He rubbed his hand over his face, his brain pounding against the inside of his skull.

"What is it, 'Rick?" Her eyes were wide with curiosity, but he could've sworn there was a glint of knowing in there. She had to have known what he was talking about... what he was about to say.

"She cheated on me." He got the reaction he had been expecting, which was only mild surprise. Her eyes narrowed in what looked like anger, and she dragged her hand through her hair. Before she could say something, he continued. "She's pregnant with the other man's baby, and when she told me, it was a huge blow."

She looked at him, her eyes still emanating anger, but now it seemed directed at him. "Why didn't you tell me? You know what I went through with Eddie."

"Yeah, but I was… well, I was embarrassed." She gave him a stern glare, asking him what he could possibly be embarrassed about. He sighed, looking away as he mentally berated himself for what he had just said. There was no going back, and he knew he had to explain himself… but that was definitely going to be hard for him. "Well, I was going to tell you about it while we were at Blind, but then…" He trailed off as his mind wandered back to that night.

_"You know, one of these could've been the murder weapon." He looked up to see her holding one of the skewers in her hand. Some food was still impaled on the long metal instrument. "It's approximate size and shape. Everybody had one."_

_The ALS illuminated a stain on the carpet, and he placed his goggles on the table as he crouched down by his kit. Taking out his phenolphthalein, he added a couple drops to the swab he was holdin__g and__ then ran it over the stained carpet. As he added the hydrogen peroxide, the tip of the swab remained white. "Well, something dripped over here that is _not_ blood."_

_"Well, it could've been whatever food was on the skewers. ALS will pick up anything that's fatty or dairy based." While she was talking, he looked over his shoulder and had to double take when he saw what looked like binoculars over by one of the tables._

_He walked over and picked up the object, realizing almost immediately that they were night-vision goggles. "Could you turn off the lights for a second?" he asked nonchalantly, not wanting to raise Catherine's suspicions more than necessary._

_He heard the click of the remote, followed almost immediately by her soft laughter. "I'm sorry, but this is a stupid idea for a restaurant." He lifted the goggles to eye-level and turned to face her, watching as she stood perfectly still. "I need to see what I'm eating." He watched as she looked around at the blackness surrounding her and began approaching her slowly._

_"I can see just fine," he stated, now standing barely a foot away from her._

_She began looking around, seemingly trying to focus on where his voice had come from. "Where are you?"_

_"Right here."_

_Her eyes moved to stare in the direction of where__ he was standing, and she seemed to focus on him. "Oh__." She lifted her hand -__ the remote__ was still firmly in her grasp -__ and pushed the button quickly. As the lights flicked on, she continued to look at him. "Hi."_

_Noticing how similar this situation was to the incident at the canal, his heartbeat quickened. "Hi."_

He tore himself from the memory, knowing full well why he hadn't told her then. He had been too distracted by how close they were to remember that he was going to tell her about Tina's affair. About her pregnancy. About how depressed he was. "Are you still with me, Warrick?"

He raised an eyebrow as he turned back to face her. His heart began to race as he saw the blush that had risen into her cheeks. She must have remembered what had happened. "Yeah. Sorry. I got caught up thinking." He drew in a calming breath before he started up again. "Well, you remember what happened. I just… couldn't tell you after that. I didn't think it was right to dump that on you."

"Oh." Her face fell, the rosy tint that had formed on her cheeks now ashen. He noticed her eyes starting to get moist, and when the first tear fell, a pang of guilt gripped at his stomach. He felt nauseous, but hid it as best he could when he saw her bat the tear away furiously. She didn't want him to see her cry, so he pretended he hadn't. "So what makes right now different?"

"What?" He looked at her, positive that confusion was twisting at every feature on his face. She gave him an incredulous look, which only confused him further.

Rolling her eyes, she started again. "If you couldn't tell me then, why are you able to tell me now? What makes right now different from then?"

He was floored. He wasn't expecting the question, so naturally he was unable to think of an answer right away. It took him a minute, but he was finally able to collect his thoughts into a coherent answer. "Because I wasn't afraid I'd lose you then. I was only afraid I'd hurt you. And now it seems like I'm losing everyone. Sara's gone, Nick is pissed at me, and Grissom just doesn't trust me anymore. You're the only one that's come here the week I've been gone. If I didn't tell you now, I probably never would, and then I'd probably lose you. I just can't lose you, Cath." He stopped rambling and watched as disbelief swam around in her significantly widened blue eyes. Did she really not know how he felt about her?

"What?" she asked, her voice strained.

Warrick took a deep breath, ignoring the dizzy spell that was cast on him. "I can't lose you. You're too important to me. We've been friends so long…" He struggled to find the words to tell her how he felt, and the look of pure shock on her face wasn't helping much.

He looked away, continuing his hunt for the perfect words to say. "… that it wouldn't be right without you in my life," she finished, jolting him out of his thoughts. He nodded as he turned back and looked into her eyes, which were telling him that she knew how he felt. He was about to say something when the pain in his head became white hot, blinding him again. He felt his stomach churning, and he felt his balance failing. He noticed Catherine was holding his hand as she wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Before he could register anything else, he was lying on the bed. He felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness, and finally let go, falling asleep in seconds.

* * *

A cool wetness against his forehead brought him back into the conscious realm. He opened his eyes slowly to see Catherine sitting next to him on the bed. She was gently pressing a wet washcloth to his hot skin. He wasn't feeling any better, but the coolness was definitely helping. "You didn't have to stay."

"Hey, you're not getting rid of me now." He looked at her, too weak to do anything with his facial muscles. He just stared, hoping she'd get the message. "I've been through withdrawal before. I know how bad it can get. You really should've gone to a rehab center, though."

"I only have two weeks. Those programs can take months." He winced as a fresh stab of pain traveled through his head. "I tossed the pills the minute Grissom suspended me and drove back here. I've only left twice since then."

He felt the cloth leave his forehead, and he stopped himself before he whined. "Have you eaten anything?"

"I didn't see the point. I'd probably throw it up." He looked back at her and saw her glaring at him. "What?"

"Get up," she ordered. He stared at her, not sure if she meant it or not. She continued to glare at him, a look that had him shifting on the bed uncomfortably. "I'm going to get you something to eat. Now get up and take a shower." He eyed her curiously, and she only rolled her eyes. "One, it'll probably help with your fever. Two… well, no offense, but you reek." He felt the heat rise into his cheeks, and she chuckled lightly. "I'll be back in a half hour."

"Okay. See ya, Cath." She nodded and waved, already halfway out the door. He smiled half-heartedly, not too thrilled with the idea of getting out of bed. He started to sit up, and immediately let his head hit the pillow again when his vision was blocked by the white flash that followed the inevitable pain. He waited until his sight returned before he started to sit up again, this time slower. The pain still came, but not as suddenly, which allowed him to keep his sight.

He got up from the bed, the rug creating a warm feeling under his feet. As he walked to the bathroom, he rubbed his temples in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure in his head. He slid the shower door open, the translucent glass paneling reaching from floor to ceiling. He reached into the shower, turning the knob labeled hot up all the way, only cooling it down a little with the cold water.

He slipped out of his jeans and boxers, tossing them aside as he stepped into the steaming spray. He sucked in a sharp breath at the extreme temperature, but didn't turn it down. It was a welcome distraction from the throbbing in his head. He added soap to the washcloth he had brought into the shower with him and began lathering it against his chest. He moved to wash his arms, the throbbing in his head a dim memory as the water running down his six-foot-two frame scalded his skin.

He wrung out the washcloth, the thicker streams of water causing loud slaps to sound from the porcelain surface of the shower floor. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back into the spraying water. Running his hands through his hair, he felt the built-up sweat of the last few days between his fingers. He felt a chuckle escape his throat when he remembered what Catherine had said earlier. She must have gotten that from Lindsey. Feeling the buildup of days of withdrawal forced him to imagine just how bad he had 'reeked'. He shuddered, embarrassment causing his stomach to twist.

A knock at the bathroom door left him frozen. "Warrick, you okay?" Her voice left him even more stunned than before.

"Yeah. How'd you get back in?"

He could've sworn he heard her laugh on the other side of the door, but was unable to question her before she spoke. "I swiped your key from the bureau." He smiled to himself, surprised he hadn't thought of that himself. "I picked us up a couple of burgers at the diner down the street."

"Alright, I'll be out in a minute." It was then that he realized he had no clothes in the bathroom with him. "Hey, Cath?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you throw me in some clothes? I didn't expect you to get back so soon." He secured the shower door, praying that she couldn't see through the glass. He turned the water off, the sudden drop in temperature raising goose bumps on his flesh.

"Okay." He heard a faint rustling from the other room, which came to an abrupt stop a minute later. The door knob squeaked as it turned, and the creaking told him the door was being opened. He turned his body away, but looked over his shoulder at the woman walking in. He couldn't help but think that she looked beautiful, even when her image was distorted by the glass separating them. "I'll get the food ready while you're getting dressed."

"Thanks," he said, watching as she seemed to hurry out of the bathroom, almost slamming the door behind her. The volume of the door banging shut brought into sharp relief the fact that his head was still aching profoundly. He ignored the sudden onset of pain and climbed out of the shower, grabbing the towel that hung just outside. He made quick work of finding the clothes Catherine had brought in for him as he dried off, dressing as fast as he could without aggravating his headache.

Fastening the last button on his shirt, he looked at himself in the mirror. Despite the fact that he had just showered, he still looked like he'd been run over by a freight train. The dark circles under his eyes made him look dead. His eyes seemed like they had sunk so deep into their sockets that they practically didn't exist. He ran the cold water in the sink and splashed some against his face a couple times, ignoring the sharp pain it caused. Taking one last look in the mirror, he saw a minor improvement in his appearance, and decided it was the best that he could do for the time being.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he saw his companion sitting at the table by the window, eating her food slowly. The curtains were open just enough to let a comfortable amount of light into the room without being overpowering. She turned to face him, giving him a smile that he couldn't help but return.

He walked over and sat across from her, staring at the open Styrofoam container in front of him. A burger with lettuce, tomato, and onions was sitting inside, with ketchup and mustard threatening to spill over the side. French fries surrounded and almost covered it, and he reached for one of the ketchup packets she had placed in the center of the table. He tore the little packet open and squeezed the contents onto his fries and then tossed it into the little trash can behind him. He picked up one of the fries and took a bite out of it, his headache making it almost impossible to enjoy to taste.

"So are you feeling any better?" He looked up to see her wiping the corners of her mouth slowly, her eyes focused on him intently. She was letting a small smile grace her lips, and he didn't stop himself from staring.

"Not really, but you were right. The shower did help." He gave her a weak smile, knowing full well that if he wasn't suffering physically, his ego would have been dealt a major blow.

She gave him a knowing smile, and he was grateful that she didn't throw an 'I told you so' at him. "Now eat. If you've learned anything, it's that I'm usually right when it comes to this stuff." It wasn't an 'I told you so'... but it was damn close.

"Right." He laughed a genuine laugh for the first time in months, and it almost hurt. He saw Catherine raise her eyebrows when he grimaced slightly, but he waved it off. "Don't worry. It's just been a while since I've laughed."

"Or smiled, for that matter." He cringed, feeling the pain that came through in her voice. She seemed to cringe as well, as if she regretted what she had said. He looked away, biting into his burger as he waited for her to say something. He knew the only way she would open up was if he didn't push too hard. As he bit into the burger a second time, he heard her take in another breath. He looked up at her just as she began to speak. "I was so worried about you, 'Rick. When Grissom told us you were suspended, I was ready to come find you right away. But something in me kept holding me back." She put a small French fry in her mouth, and began chewing slowly.

He watched her relentlessly, not wanting to take his eyes off her all of a sudden. His burger long forgotten, he leaned back in his chair. "What was it, Catherine?" She shrugged her uncertainty, causing him to sigh audibly. She hung her head, and he knew she was avoiding eye contact with him. He reached across the table and tucked his fingers under her chin, lifting her head up lightly to look at him. "It's okay, whatever it is. Nothing you could possibly say would hurt me, because you're here now."

As he retracted his hand, he thought he saw a quick look of disappointment morph into her features. He shook it off as her mouth opened to speak. "I've been through this before. Not just dealing with Eddie's drug problems, but with my own. I wasn't sure if I could handle seeing you in the state I had been in so many times before. I remember it being so utterly pathetic, and I just didn't want to see you that way." She sighed, her head dipping back down to stare at the table.

"Do you think I'd want you to see me like this?" He motioned at his face, knowing that he looked as miserable on the outside as he felt on the inside. He watched as she shook her head slowly. She looked back up and that's when he saw the tears streaming freely down her face. She made no attempt to hide them, and he found himself reaching across the table to place his hand on her cheek gently. "Cath, you know how I feel about you, don't you?"

He felt her lean into his touch lightly as a light blush rose into her cheeks and neck. He swiped his thumb under her eye, taking a fresh flow of tears with him. She squeezed her eyes shut, and he saw her chest push out as she took a deep breath. "I've never been sure, Warrick. I mean…" She trailed off and shifted her eyes to look past him, the look he associated with trying to remember something swimming in her eyes. "Remember the Channel Surfer case a while back?" He nodded, already knowing where she was going with this. "Well, when you caught me when I was about to fall… I don't know, there was this electricity there, ya know? If it weren't for that city worker…"

"… I probably would've kissed you." She nodded slowly, still not bringing her eyes back to meet his. His words must not have registered in her right away, because suddenly her eyes widened and her gaze shot to him. Her stare was incredulous, and he could only smile at her.

They stared at each other wordlessly. Remembering that moment made him regret his marriage to Tina that much more. The second his thoughts turned to Tina, he dropped his hand from Catherine's cheek and looked away. The smile was erased from his face, and he couldn't help but wonder why he had screwed up his relationship with Catherine so terribly.

He glanced at her quickly from the corner of his eye and saw a clear look of disappointment on her face. She had told him that he hurt her by getting married, just not in so many words. It was the mere fact that she had avoided the subject for so long that made it obvious. "Cath… I am so sorry."

"For what?" She eyed him curiously, the drying tears tracks on her face illuminated by the sunlight drifting in through the window.

He breathed deeply, picking just the right words to say. He turned back to her hesitantly, but once he was facing her, his gaze intensified exponentially to show her just how serious he was. "For everything. For not telling you about my marriage sooner. For not telling you about Tina's affair. For not coming to you when I should've known that I could."

Her eyes were practically out of their sockets, and there was no possible way her eyes could open any further. Then her eyes narrowed, not in confusion, but in remorse. "Well, I'm to blame just as much as you, 'Rick." He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, studying her features carefully. They shifted around until they rested in a look of sympathy, the emotion reflected in her gaze. "I feel as if it's my fault that you couldn't come to me." She held her hand up, shoving the words that he was about to utter back down his throat. "Let me finish. I kept you from explaining your marriage when I did find out. That's probably why you didn't feel comfortable talking to me about it afterwards. I didn't act like your friend because I was jealous, and I regret that now."

"Why were you jealous?" He knew it was a stupid question, and he was pretty sure that he already knew the answer, but he needed to hear her say it.

She closed her eyes, and he could've sworn he saw them roll beneath the lids. Her chest pushed forward in another deep breath, and he attempted to prepare himself for whatever she said next. "I thought it was pretty damn obvious, but I guess not. Well, for most of the time after the close call in the channel, I realized how attracted I was to you, but I figured it was just physical. And the fantasies I had only seemed to prove that to me." She looked away briefly, her eyes glistening in the sunlight with freshly forming tears. "When I saw the wedding band on your finger, something I didn't expect to happen… happened."

"What?" He felt his eyes focus on her in an intense gaze, and immediately tried to soften it as she looked back at him.

"My heart… shattered. Not because I realized my fantasies would never come true… but because I found out I was… in love with you." Her cheeks immediately flushed a crimson that contrasted furiously with her milky skin. He tried to tone his shock down, but it was useless. His eyes stayed wide and he could practically feel the shock emanating from them. He waited for her to say something, because her confession had left him completely speechless. "I was floored. I tried to figure out exactly when it happened, but I just couldn't. All I know is that somewhere between the channel and Nick's kidnapping I had fallen in love with you, and there was no way to reverse it." She looked away from him, tears beginning to slide down the freshly paved tear tracks. "I managed to tame the beast over the past few years, but it never went away."

Warrick felt his heart pounding in his chest, the blood squeezing painfully through his skull. He managed to keep himself from succumbing to the pain, and took a deep breath to calm his speeding heart. "Catherine, look at me." She didn't move to turn her head, so he reached over to do it himself. Although her head was turned to face him, her eyes still refused to meet his. Softly yet forcefully, he repeated, "Look at me. Please." Her eyes reluctantly moved to look at his, and when they met, they were immediately locked together. "You know what I told you about why I married Tina?"

"Yeah. Because you didn't know how long you had left, and you wanted to get married before it was too late. I remember you said that life is so short, and that sometimes it's shorter than you ever wanna believe."

He nodded, trying desperately to ignore the tears that were still sliding down her cheeks so he could continue. "Well, I had convinced myself that I loved her, but as the months went by, I realized I wasn't. My marriage to Tina was just a desperate attempt at consistency in a world that is constantly changing. I never realized that I already had what I was looking for waiting for me every night at work. When I was telling you about how I ended up marrying Tina, my stomach started knotting up with guilt." He took a deep breath, knowing that this was probably the only chance he would have to tell her. "I regretted ever asking her to marry me, because I saw how hurt you were. I just didn't think you were in love with me because of what you told me."

"That was the point. Of course, it didn't keep you from feeling guilty, so it didn't work completely." She smiled apologetically, which momentarily tore his gaze from her eyes so he could stare at her lips.

Meeting her eyes again, he attempted a half-smile. When her smile increased slightly, he held his, confident that it hadn't become a sneer in the process. "Anyway, at the restaurant, when I found the night-vision goggles, I hadn't been planning on doing what I did. But when you turned the lights back on, I flashed back to the canal, and it reminded me of exactly how much I cared about you."

"Same here." Their eyes remained locked, and Warrick felt heat blazing from her stare. It seemed like an eternity to him before Catherine diverted her attention to a spot on the table. "Why don't we finish eating and talk about this after."

"Okay." His appetite had disappeared completely during their conversation, but he knew that she wasn't going to accept that, so he lifted his now lukewarm burger to his mouth and took a bite.

He kept stealing glances at her while they ate, and he was pretty sure she was doing the same. An uncomfortable silence settled between them as they finished, not to mention his stomach was refusing to agree with what was now in it. Forcing himself to ignore the intense nausea, he looked up from the table and was met with her eyes on him. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah," he lied, determined to make it the truth.

"Good." She looked down at her watch, and a frantic look brushed over her features and then quickly disappeared. "I have to go pick up Lindsey from school. I've already called my mother to watch her tonight, so she should be there by the time I get Linds home. I'll probably be back around four." By the time she had stopped to take a breath she was at the door. "Try and get some rest while I'm gone."

He nodded, and, once again, she only waved goodbye to him, which he did in return. When the door closed behind her, he stood up from the chair slowly, avoiding a sharp blast of pain with some ease. He walked over to the window that was the only source of light in the room. As closed the curtains, he stole a glimpse of her walking to her truck. After closing the curtains and moving over to the side of the bed, he stripped, leaving his boxers on in light of the fact that Catherine would be returning. He slowly climbed under the sheets and rested his head against the pillow, relishing in the temporary coolness the pillow held.

He started out lying on his back, but soon began turning from side to side, unable to find a comfortable position. As he turned to lay flat on his stomach, the contents within it began to shift uncontrollably and began rising into his esophagus. "Oh, damn it."

Ignoring the shooting pain behind his eyes, he flung himself out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. It didn't take very long for him to empty the entirety of his lunch into the porcelain bowl. When the retching had ceased, he stood up slowly, walking to the sink once he was steadily on his feet. He took one of the paper cups from the dispenser attached to the wall and filled it with water. He poured some into his mouth and swished it around. Satisfied, he spit it into the sink and repeated the process two more times.

He ran the water to clean out the sink before he headed out of the bathroom to get back into bed. His eyelids were suddenly heavy, and he was shivering uncontrollably. The second his head hit the pillow, he passed out.

* * *

The coolness of a wet washcloth against his forehead woke him up once again, and he smiled at the feeling. "A guy could get used to waking up like this," he said as he opened his eyes to look at the strawberry blonde sitting next to him.

She returned his smile, the shine in her eyes apparent even in the dim light of the motel room. "Well, don't. I'd rather not see you like this again." His smile dissipated, causing hers to do the same. "Sorry. I just hate seeing you this way. It hurts."

"It's definitely not something I plan on doing again," he said plainly, meaning every word. It broke his heart to see her so upset, and he hated that he was the cause of it. He looked away, the shame he was feeling leaving him too distraught to look at her. He went to sit up, and he felt the compress slide away from his forehead. "I should be the one who's sorry, anyway. It kills me to know that I'm the reason you're hurting so bad." Now sitting completely upright, he turned to see how what he had said affected her. Her expression was ridden with guilt, and he vowed to berate himself for it later. "No, Cath. Don't you dare feel guilty. You have no reason to."

She shook her head as she met his eyes with her own. "Yes I do. I just told you that I was in love with you long before you married Tina. If I had figured it out sooner, I could've told you, and you wouldn't have married her and ended up the way you are now."

Tears were now streaming down her cheeks, creating fresh lines on her ever-reddening skin. She was on the verge of sobbing, and Warrick was clueless as to what he should do next. Before all the shit with Tina, he would've wrapped Catherine in a hug and told her it was okay. But now it just didn't feel right. He watched as she raised her hand to cover her eyes and then her shoulders began to bob up and down in an unsteady rhythm, leaving him all the more desperate for a way to fix it.

Throwing caution to the wind, he put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a light hug. He felt her head turn sideways to rest against his chest, the warm wetness of her tears chilled almost immediately by the cooled air in the room. Her arms, which had been trapped by his hug, were freed just enough so she could wrap them around him. She held him tight, her sobs getting louder, finding a level volume at just below a scream. He held her as tight as he could without cutting off her air supply, trying desperately to sooth her. He ran his hand softly along her back in a circular motion, feeling no change in the intensity of her sobs.

Realizing that it wasn't helping, he pulled himself from her to hold her at arm's length. "Catherine, I'm not mad at you!" he said forcefully, shocking her into looking him in the eyes, her sobs quieting ever so slightly. "Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you or give you a reason to feel a guilty. I love you too damn much to _ever_ let that happen!" As he digested what he had just said to her, he didn't feel the slightest bit unhappy with it. In fact, it felt good to get it off his chest, because he meant every word. He realized her arms had stopped jerking in his hands, and when he actually looked at her, he realized she wasn't sobbing anymore. She wasn't saying anything, so he felt he had to. "I love you, Catherine. I didn't tell you because there never seemed to be a right time."

"I… I don't know what to say," she practically forced out, her voice slightly hoarse. Her expression was unreadable, which left him second guessing himself. He looked away, suddenly beginning to regret what he had said, despite not wanting to. He felt her warm hand rest itself upon his cheek and gently turn him to face her again. The first thing he noticed was that she was smiling. "I love you, too." He followed her other hand as it lifted to rest against his other cheek.

He was beginning to lean his head forward when his cell phone started to ring. He started to turn his head toward the sound of the infernal contraption, and he felt her hands fall as he reached for the blaring object. He stared at Grissom's name on the caller ID, his eyebrow cocked. He flipped it open to answer it. "Brown."

"Hello, Warrick. How are you?"

He looked to see Catherine eying him curiously, and he mouthed 'Grissom' before he answered his boss. "Not too hot. I'm sweating bullets and throwing up everything I eat." He didn't care that his voice was holding enough contempt to piss a judge off, he was still angry that Grissom didn't do anything when he knew what had really happened to Joanna.

"Well, that's to be expected considering your condition." Warrick heard him clear his throat and waited for him to go on, not totally willing to talk to him yet. "When you come back to work, IAB is going to want to iron out some details about the events surrounding the murder of Joanna Krumsky, but it looks like you're going to be cleared of all charges."

He smiled a little bit, but wiped it from his face as he answered his boss. "Thanks, Gris. That's great." He saw Catherine looking at him, and he held up a finger to indicate he was almost finished. "Listen, Gris, I have to go. I'm really not feeling well, and I was gonna try and get some sleep."

There was a short pause on the other end before Grissom replied. "Alright. Give me a call tomorrow, if you can."

"Okay. Bye, Gris."

"Bye."

Warrick flipped the phone shut, allowing the grin that was once again tugging at his lips to form. He felt as if a humongous weight had been lifted from his shoulders, which only broadened his grin. "What is it, 'Rick?"

He focused his eyes on Catherine, whose facial features were contorted into a look of confusion. "He said that it looks like I'll be cleared of the murder charges. I'll have to talk to IAB when I go back to work, but other than that, this nightmare is almost over."

The smile on her face when he finished talking was giving him a run for his money. "That's great," she said emphatically, her eyes unable to hold his as long as that smile was on her face. He was so distracted by her dazzling smile that she caught him off guard when she hugged him, and he fell backwards on the mattress. The situation had them both bursting into a loud fit of laughter, her head pressed against his shoulder lightly. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Cath. Really." He felt the vibrations of her laughter against his chest, which kept his own laughter from dying out. The feeling he got from laughing was nothing compared to how he felt when he was around her. He felt moisture against his chest, and realized she was tearing up, but her continued laughter kept him from worrying.

He felt her breaths deepen, spacing out the laughter significantly. Slowly but surely, her laughter tapered off, as did his. The weight she was putting on his chest began to lift, and he looked up into her eyes. She gazed back at him as she sat upright on the bed.

Her eyes never left his, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. Instead of sitting up on the bed, he found himself grabbing her arm and pulling her back down on top of him. She started laughing again, a hint of uneasiness apparent in her laughter. Their eyes met again, and his stomach was suddenly twisted in knots. He went to lift his head up, but a blinding pain had him slamming it back against the pillow. "Damn it," he muttered.

He winced as he opened his eyes to a fuzzy image of Catherine's concerned expression. "What's wrong?"

"My damn head. I tried to lean forward too fast."

She smiled at his statement, and he lifted an eyebrow at her. "Then don't lean forward." Before he could point out how obvious her statement was her lips had silenced him. A spark of electricity ignited at his mouth, sending a wave of heat throughout his entire body. He closed his eyes, the sensation of her lips against his overwhelming him. He felt her right hand slide between his head and the pillow, the left settling under the back of his neck. Gently, she lifted his head off the pillow and deepened the kiss, her tongue now demanding entrance into his mouth. He allowed it, now dueling it with his own.

The experience was so intense he found the ability to breathe long forgotten. They both seemed to go minutes without needing a single breath, and he didn't become the slightest bit uncomfortable. When she finally lifted away from him to take a breath, he took in the changes in her features. Her cheeks were flushed the same color they had been earlier that day, and a thin layer of sweat created a soft glow on her forehead. Her hair fell to frame her face, casting a light shadow over her features.

Unable to contain himself, he pulled her back down into another kiss. She smiled against his mouth, causing him to do the same. He rolled her onto her back as he got up to lean over her. The blinding pain he felt forced him to pause, leaving him to use everything he had in him to avoid collapsing on top of her. When he felt as if he were in control of his body again, he looked at her hazy features. He dipped his head down slowly, capturing her lips lightly with his own. He felt her smile, and immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth relentlessly.

As their tongues engaged in yet another battle, Catherine's cell phone began warbling at her hip. She groaned against his mouth, the vibrations tickling the sensitive nerves of his inner lips. He pulled away, giving a silent command for her to answer it. He moved into a sitting position beside her and watched as she pulled the phone from its holster and flipped it open impatiently. "Willows… Are you serious?... Okay… I'll be there in fifteen minutes." She snapped the phone shut, frustration evident in her features. "You're gonna _love_ this." He cocked an eyebrow, curiosity overpowering him. "That was Grissom. He says a city worker found a body in the bushes along I-15 while he was repainting the lines."

"A city worker, huh? Figures." They both chuckled, and he was definitely seeing the irony of the situation. "Well, you better go."

"Yeah." She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the mouth. "But you better _believe_ I'll be back after shift." He raised both his eyebrows at her comment, curious as to what she meant. "After what ended up happening last time, I'll be damned if a city worker keeps us apart again."


End file.
